


Wings

by Devodog



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, johnlock - Fandom
Genre: M/M, romance; fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-26
Updated: 2017-04-26
Packaged: 2018-10-24 10:36:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10739976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Devodog/pseuds/Devodog
Summary: John has been in a serious relationship with Mary for several months.  They are considering taking the next step; moving in together.  Suddenly, John starts receiving mysterious notes causing him to doubt his relationship. Does John stay with Mary or does he choose someone else?





	1. Cue the Music

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at posting a story. Not really sure what I'm doing. I just cut and past from my posting on Wattpad. I apologize for any goofs, oopsies, or otherwise. Feedback, comments, happy thoughts, etc. are always welcome. Remember to play nice, please.  
> This story was inspired by the song Never from the 1984 version of Footloose. I stumbled across the song in an old playlist. I did some tweaking of the gals. I didn't want to leave John in an awkward work environment. ;) Enjoy. -DD

It was Monday morning and John was sitting at his desk drinking his usual cup of tea. He had a a few before his first patient showed up. He was thinking about his date on Saturday. Mary and him had been dating for several months now and lately she's been hinting that they should move in together. John wasn't sure that was what he wanted. He was happy at Baker St. He liked Mary well enough, he just wasn't sure she was The One. "Well that's thoughts for a later time. Time to get my day started." John said to himself.

He grabbed his first folder. When he opened it, he found a note that didn't belong. It was type written and attached right in front where there was no chance of missing it.

"I feel your heart

It's beating time with mine

But love love love is on the line"

Mary must have done this John thought. It was a romantic gesture. Another hint? He just smiled and put the note in his pocket.

At lunch he called Mary to thank her for the sweet note. The problem was, she had no idea what he was talking about. She was a bit concerned that someone was leaving him love notes. Mary had a bit of possessive streak. John was able to brush it off as a prank. One of his mates taking the piss.

That night John was updating his blog. Sherlock was fiddling around with some experiment in the kitchen. Out of the blue he asked "How are things with Mary?"

John was shocked. Sherlock never asked about his girlfriends. In fact, he was usually trying to get rid of them. For some reason he left Mary alone. Mostly. He set his laptop to the side and went into the kitchen. "Fine. Why do you ask?"

Sherlock looked up from his microscope. "You have seemed more preoccupied than usual. Something amiss?"

"If you must know she's been hinting around about moving in together. Since we spend so much time with each other it makes sense to just live together and save time and money."

"And you are considering?" Sherlock asked softly, trying to keep the fear out of his voice.

"I don't know, Sherlock. I mean it makes sense and all."

"You don't sound convinced."

"I'm not sure I want to take that step with her. You know what happened the last time I tried to live with a girlfriend. She cheated on me. Ripped my heart to shreds. I just don't know if I can trust her not to do the same thing. It doesn't matter. Not something that needs to be decided right now. I'm heading to bed. G'night, Sherlock."

Sherlock smiled to himself as John went upstairs. He knew now that John would be staying at Baker St. At least for a little while longer. He understood his trust issues. He remembered when Sarah betrayed him. It almost destroyed him.

The next morning John had a later shift at the surgery. Sherlock was already up, of course. "Anything interesting for today?" asked John, while he made them both tea.

"Nothing above a five I'm afraid." Sherlock answered as he took the cup from John. John filled that away. Sherlock being polite. Asking about his personal life. Something isn't right.

"I'm going out with Mary after work. So I'll be late. Don't shoot the wall, please." John told him as he put on his jacket.

"I can't promise what I will do if I get bored." replied Sherlock with a smile.

John just shook his head and left. Since he had the time and the weather was decent for a change, he decided to walk to St. Barts. There was still a chill in the air so John put his hands in his pockets to keep warm. He felt a piece of paper. He pulled it out, thinking it was an old receipt. It turned out to be another note.

"She hold's you down

But I know you want to run

You're hot hot loaded like a gun"

John frowned. Sherlock must have slipped it into his pocket after their conversation last night. What game is he playing now? He'll have to ask him about it later. Especially that last line.

The rest of the day passed with out incident. John and Mary were at a small, intimate cafe. He wanted to talk with Mary about where their relationship was heading. He waited until desert when Mary would be more content and relaxed. As the waiter sat down his cherry pie, there was a small slip of paper sticking out from under the plate. John casually took it and read it discretely under the table while the waiter engaged Mary with some silly story.

"Oh you feel so trapped and confused

Start with nothing and you've got nothing to loose"

John frowned slightly and put the paper in his pocket just as the waiter walked away. "Enjoy your pie, Sir."

John didn't have the relationship talk. He thought it was Sherlock leaving the notes. A sort of prank. Instead of deducing his girlfriend and having her leave him, he was planting doubts in John's head. Trying to get him to do the breakup. "Damn it, Sherlock. Get out of my head." thought John.

"Our waiter was very friendly, John. That story he told about the hedgehog and otter was hysterical. Don't you agree?" Mary didn't stop long enough for John to answer. "Make sure to leave him a nice tip. That story alone was worth it."

"Yes, Dear." John answered for some reason her comment and tone irritated him. They left right after. John had been planning on a night cap, but between the notes and Mary's comments,he just wanted to go home.

"Coming over?" Mary asked?

"Not tonight. I have a headache." John laughed. "That sounds so cliche, but it's true."

Mary wrapped her arms his neck, placing soft, open mouth kisses along his jaw and up to his ear. Where she whispered, "I bet I can make it go away."

John pulled her arms off him and placed a chaste kiss on her lips. "Not tonight, dear. It's one that even your brand of medicine won't cure. I'm sorry."

Mary pouted, but kissed him back. "Just this once." John could tell she wasn't happy but he really just wanted to be alone. He needed to think and he really was starting to get a bit of a headache.

John walked into the flat to find Sherlock lying on the couch, in though. "You're home early. Have a row?"

"No. Just a bit of a headache. I'm just going to have a quick shower and go to bed. G'night."

"Good Night, John." Sherlock said with a small smile.

John laid in bed, tossing and turning. He thought a hot shower would help him relax and fall asleep but thoughts of Mary and the notes kept running through his head. John was just about to finally fall asleep when his text alert went off. He considered ignoring it, but it could be from Harry. Lestrade knew not to text John this late. With a groan he turned on the bedside lamp and opened the message. It was from a blocked number. Normally John would ignore it, but with all the other strange things going on, he went ahead and opened it.

"You can never ever hide your heart

Don't ever ever ever ever try

If you don't give your heart wing you'll

Never never never never fly"

"What the hell?" thought John. Notes! Now texts. What the bloody hell is going on. John flopped back on his pillows. Now he really did have a headache. Who was sending him the notes? He was leaning towards ending things with Mary, or at the very least, slowing things down. Making his intentions clearer. He wasn't sure if those thoughts were happening before or after the notes. Either way, he needed to figure who was sending him these damned notes. John turned over various ideas long into the night. He eventually fell asleep in the wee hours of the morning, no closer to an answer.


	2. Fight

Sherlock came racing into John's room before the sun had barely crept into his room. "John. Wake up. We have a case."

"Not now, Sherlock. I just got to sleep." John groaned into his pillow.

Sherlock came over John's side of the bed and pulled the covers off. "Get up. The game is on." He paused and took a long sweeping look over John's frame. He didn't miss anything. He saw every defined muscle. The scars from war and the morning...never mind. With that, he spun on his heel and left the room.

John didn't notice the look the Sherlock gave him as he pulled the blanket off. He was to shocked from the sudden attack of cold air on his warm skin. After the initial shock wore off, all John could do was thank his lucky stars that he decided to wear pants to bed last night. Otherwise that might have been embarrassing.

When they got to the crime scene, Lestrade gave them the run down. For once, Sherlock actually listened instead of rushing off to examine the body. "John, why don't you have first look at this one. Think of it as a pop quiz, if you like." Sherlock said without looking at him. John just stared at him. So did Lestrade. John was glad he wasn't the only one who thought Sherlock was acting a bit odd.

John shrugged and headed towards the body. There wasn't anything really remarkable out this case. Hardly a four. Five if you were bored. John circled the man lying on the ground. He saw something sticking out from the cuff of his jacket. He almost missed it. That would have made him fail the quiz he thought chuckling. Putting on a pair of gloves, John took the paper and opened.

"Break down the walls

You've got to cut the ties

There's pain pain burning in your eyes"

"Fuck!" shouted John, throwing the paper to the ground as he stormed off.

The outburst raised quite a few eyebrows from the police on the scene. John was the calm one. Sherlock picked up the paper and ran after his friend.

"John?" asked Sherlock standing behind him. There was no response. Sherlock stepped closer and placed a hand on John's shoulder. He tried again. "John. What's wrong?"

John turned around. "Nothing."

Sherlock pressed on. "You never act this way at a crime scene. Does it have something to do with this?" He handed the shorter man the paper.

"How did THIS" John shook it at Sherlock's face "get on a dead man? At a crime scene? This isn't even a five so we shouldn't even be here by your rules. Explain that to me Mr. Holmes." John dropped his hand with note and ran his other through his hair. Sherlock watch that hand and wished it was his caressing the sandy locks.

"How do you know that this note pertains to you?" Sherlock asked calmly.

"Because I've gotten other like it. They've been showing up in odd places all week. I've even gotten a late night text."

"Why haven't you asked me for help?

"At first I thought it was a love note from Mary. Then a prank from someone at work. But here? At a crime scene? Something isn't right." 

"Let me help you, John." Sherlock said softly as he stepped even closer. 

John was upset enough not to notice how close they were. "John." whispered Sherlock. John finally looked up and realized how close they were standing to each other. He actually felt the tall man's breath on his face. His eyes widened and his breath caught in his throat. 

"I need to figure this out on my own. Practice those deduction skills and all. Please, Sherlock. Let me do this on my own." John stepped around him. "Let's get back to work." Nothing more was said about the notes until the next one showed up in the flat.

*****

 

John was making his usual evening tea. He reached into the tin for the tea and got a note instead.

"It's time to fight

It's time for tearing free

Oh come come running straight to me"

This was starting to unnerve John. How did it get here? There was no note this morning. Sherlock was with him all day. Mrs. Hudson didn't know bout his Mary contemplations. Mycroft had no reason to bother. He kept coming back to Sherlock, but the timing ever made sense. So who could it be? John didn't even finish making his tea. He just stood there, looking out at his reflection in the window.

Sherlock could see these notes were starting to take a toll on John. He was becoming withdrawn and irritable. It was time to up his game.

Sherlock walked into the kitchen. He pressed himself against the smaller man. His hips aligned perfectly against Johns. His back covered the smaller one like a cloak. Sherlock slid his hand down slowly John's arm as he reached for the note. He was so close that his lips brushed the doctors ear as he whispered, "May I see it, John?"

Johns breathing became shallow as he felt every inch of his beast friend pressed tightly against his back side. Despite their height difference, everything fit perfectly. He didn't want to think about how perfect it was. He could feel Sherlock hardness against his bum. John closed his eyes and gripped the counter edge tightly. He wanted desperately to lean his head back on Sherlock's shoulder. Grab the soft curls in his hand and kiss those soft lips.

Instead, John stood up straighter which pushed the detective back. This caused him to cage to the counter. The doctor didn't care. He turned around to glance at the lips he wanted to taste. All he had to do was lean forward an inch and he would know what his best friend tasted like. John repressed a groan and looked into these cosmic eyes. They held so much promise at the moment.

The doctor wished he could, but there was Mary and himself. Their issues needed to be resolved. Then, he wasn't sure that he could trust anyone with his heart. Not after Sarah. He snorted to himself about that. Everyone thought it was Sherlock that couldn't love and trust. High functioning sociopath my arse. The two men were best mates. They would lay their lives down for the other. But love? That is a different kind of trust. To give your heart to someone and trust that they will cherish it and guard it like their own? That they won't break it and stomp on all the pieces? That is a pain the is almost unbearable. He went through it once. He knew he wouldn't survive another break.

This all ran through John's head in just a couple of moments. Sherlock just watched his doctor's face. Saw all the emotions and thoughts that were running through his mind. The detective couldn't decipher what John finally settled on and that drove him mad.


	3. Love, yes. Trust?

"No. You may not, Sherlock." John whispered answering the original question. He stared once more into those eyes. The promise of love and trust were there for him to see. He finally broke his gaze and quietly climbed the stairs to his room.

John sat on his bed, phone in hand. He knew he should call Mary. There were three missed calls and one voice mail. She didn't text unless he was at the surgery. She told him once that she didn't want to distract him whilst he was on a case. 

Mary didn't like him doing cop work, as she put it. He was a doctor. He did his time as a soldier. Protecting his countrymen and all. Was almost killed for it. He should be grateful that he could work in a safe place like a surgery. This had always been an issue between them. She couldn't understand his desire for a little adventure. She thought seeing someone with toe fungus was exciting.

That was something else that bothered John. Mary was trying to change who he was. Not overtly of course. It was very subtle things, like encouraging more time at the surgery and less time on cases with Sherlock. Telling him to leave big or small tips. Stop putting himself in danger for one person. She would never refer to Sherlock directly, didn't want to upset him, but that's who she was referring too. Mary was not fond of his best friend.

John gave up. He couldn't deal with her right now. Hell, he couldn't deal with Sherlock right now. He just tossed the phone on the table. He reached into the small drawer and pulled out all the notes that he had received, including the text he wrote out. He laid them out in order that he got them and read them again. He hoped that would help him figure out who was behind them.

I feel your heart

It's beating time with mine

But love love is on the line

She hold you down

But I know you want to run

You're hot hot loaded like a gun

Oh you feel so trapped and confused

Start with nothing and you've got nothing to loose

You can never never never ever never never never ever hide your heart

Don't ever ever ever ever try it

If you don't give your hear wings you'll

Never never never ever fly

Break down the walls

You've got to cut the ties

There's pain pain burning in your eyes

It's time to fight

It's time for tearing free

Oh come come running straight to me

He kept staring at the last one. The one from the tea tin. The one that had Sherlock pressed against him like a lover instead of a friend. The one that confused him the most. 

Oh you know she don't love you like I do

Don't make believe that you don't feel it too

He laid back against the pillows, thinking, while turning the note over in his fingers. It had to be Sherlock. The questions. The nice gestures. Tonight in the kitchen. He felt everything when Sherlock pressed against him. Every hard muscle. Felt his increased breathing. His hot breath on his neck. The sensuous way his hand caressed his arm. It was the way his friends erection fit so perfectly at his arse that scared John the most. Best friends should be getting hard over each other. Shouldn't be thinking of kissing each other. Sending love notes to each other.

He knew that Sherlock was in love with him. He had hoped that it was a phase. Adrenalin from the cases or constant proximity with each other. Who was he kidding. He was in love with Sherlock too. He just tried to find excuses because he was scared. He didn't know if he could trust anyone like that again. Sarah's betrayal destroyed him. It took months - years to trust another person enough to even show a part of his heart. 

If John was honest with himself, Sherlock always had his heart. Since the moment he shot the cabbie to prevent him from a possible death. Sherlock never broke a promise to him. He was always there when he needed him. If he were in a middle of a case or experiment, he would drop everything. Just for a simple, average, army doctor.

Still. Can he really trust Sherlock not to betray him? He could get bored and need someone more intelligent. More stimulating. Just more.

John was startled when his text alert went off. Unknown number.

You can never ever ...hide your heart

Don't ever....try it

If you don't give your heart wings you'll

Never never never ever fly

John smiled. Sherlock knew him better than he knew himself. Of course he did. He was Sherlock Holmes.

Another message arrived. "It's time to fly."

John just stared at the message. Could he do this? Was his heart strong enough? He sent a text to Mary. "We need to talk. Meet me at the coffee shop in 30."

John went down the stairs. Sherlock wasn't around. He didn't hear him leave the flat, so he must be in his room. John was glad. He wasn't ready to face his friend yet. He wanted a clean slate. Then there wouldn't be anything to lose.

John looked at the closed bedroom door for a moment. He turned back, grabbed his coat and left of the coffee shop.

Sherlock watched from his bedroom door. It had only appeared closed. John would have noticed if he was observing instead of seeing. The detective was worried. Did he read things wrong? Did he just lose his best friend? No! He knew John. He knew his heart. John would be back.

 

AN: Any one want the coffee shop scene? Let me know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any one want the coffee shop scene? Let me know.


	4. John's Wings

It was late when John came back to the flat. He did it. He cleaned his slate. Mary seemed to take it well. John suspected that she just was ready to settle down and he was there at the right time. He was ready to get his wings. Now all he needed to do was tell Sherlock.

The only light in the flat was from above the kitchen sink. John really wanted to tell Sherlock. He looked over at the bedroom door, but it was still closed. John wasn't up for knocking on bedroom doors at this late of hour. He sighed and started for his room.

Out of the dark he heard, "John." He turned toward the voice. The doctor could see a tall shadow standing in the parlor. He slowly stepped toward it. He stopped in front of the man who had loved him without question. Without demands. He patiently waited for John to learn how to fly.

Sherlock didn't say anything. He waited for John to make the first move. It was pure agony. 'Would he or wouldn't he' kept running through his head. His breath was becoming more shallow as the silence stretched on.

John observed all of this. He learned from the best. "I'm starting with nothing, so I have nothing to lose." he whispered to his best friend. Sherlock understood. Slowly, John reached up and ran his fingers through Sherlock's dark curls. The tall man moaned softly, closing his eyes and leaning into the touch.

John smiled. His hand cupped the back of Sherlock's head, pulling him gently down to his level. His other hand sliding around his waist. Sherlock didn't hesitate. His arms wrapped around his friend's shoulders. Holding him tight. Just as their lips were about to touch, John quietly said, "I can fly." Sherlock smiled and the men shared their first kiss of many.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what did you think? Short chapter, I know. It needed it's own section. This is my second story. Let me know how I'm doing. Feedback is always welcome. Thanks. -DD


End file.
